The Descendents Of Our Story
by MarlyCook
Summary: The Christmas rush was pushed past her and her gloves spotted sitting on a display case That is the night she met Peter Petrelli AUCrossover


**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing, but my imagination._

_This story came to me a while back and now I am determined to put it into words. The most credit in this story goes to Sue, also known as CharliLee. She's helped me so much with this first chapter. Actually, she probably came up with a lot more of the first chapter than I did lol. Thank you, hon! _

_One thing you must know before I begin my story. This is the Christmas of 2005, and Rory is 26. This is before the Heroes found out they had powers and this makes Rory graduate from college earlier than 2007. _

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"Shit!" Rory cursed under her breath as the hot; brown liquid soaked through her blouse, scalding her porcelain skin. She set the to-go cup on the table next to her and dabbed the brown spot with a napkin.

When she finished cleaning up most of the stain, she wiped the cup and curled her fingers back around it, continuing on her hunt for the perfect gift to buy her boyfriend of six months. Today, so far, had not been a good day. Not only was it five days before Christmas and her shopping wasn't nearly close to being finished, it was also nasty outside and her cell phone was dead.

She walked by windows in the mall and spotted a pair of gloves that she thought would be perfect for Ryan. She smiled and scurried toward them before anyone else had the chance to get them. Rory reached down to claim them and suddenly came into contact with another person's hand. The gloves were lifted off of the stand and Rory huffed before looking up at the person who stole her perfect gift.

"Put those down!" She demanded the man standing in front of her.

Chocolate eyes danced in front of her as they move from her face, to the gloves, and back to her face again, "Why?"

"Because, I saw them first," she argued and crossed her arms protectively below her breasts.

The man, Peter, who had been shopping all day also, smirked a bit at her, "Oh? Exactly how do you know that?"

"Well- Uh- You see- Okay maybe I didn't see them first, but-," she groaned, "I need these!"

"And why do you think your need for these gloves are stronger than mine?" His smirk only grew wider, but his eyes were on the borderline of playful and aggravated.

While hers only showed aggravation, "Cause' I am really late on my shopping and this would be the perfect gift."

"That's your only reason?" He set down the gloves and listened to her.

"Because I don't have time to argue with some guy in a Bloomingdales department store. I have places to be and things to buy and right now, those are one of the things I need to buy." Rory reasoned in a slightly heated voice, getting angrier by the minute.

"Ouch, that hurt. Just some guy? Come on now, you can give me more than that. I've been told by many different girls that I was awfully attractive." He paused and went over what he just said in his head. What the hell? Where did that come from? Where did the timid; thoughtful Peter go? But then again, there was something about this woman standing in front of him. Something that made him want to push her buttons, just to make her angry. She looked cute when she was angry.

Rory looked up into his deep brown eyes and then lowered her eyes to the ground as her face turned three different shades of red.

Peter opened his mouth to make a comment on her blushing, but stopped when he saw someone pick up the gloves that were the center of their conversation. He turned to the person and saw a man around the age of 50 with a round face and pink cheeks, "Wait, sir, those are our gloves."

The older man stopped and looked from Peter to Rory, "Your gloves?"

Peter nodded.

"They have a price tag on them. They're just sitting there on the stand and anyone can grab 'em up and buy 'em."

"Yeah, but, uh- you see," he stumbled over his words, trying to find an accurate response. He glanced at Rory for help and she just raised her eyebrows, waiting to see where he was going with this. She then realized how attractive he really was. With his dark; intense eyes and his hair gelled up and out of his face.

He rubbed his eyes and looked back at the man. "You see," he continued, "The gloves are our exchange for our departure after the New Years."

The man furrowed his brow, obviously confused.

"I'm leaving after New Years, going out of the country," Rory cut in.

"Exactly," Peter gestured to Rory with his hand.

"And you need these particular gloves because …" He left the sentence open for Peter or Rory to finish for him.

"To remind me of her, of course." Rory giggled to herself, hinting the sarcastic glint in his eyes. She noted to her self that it made him even more adorable than he already was.

The man shook his head and threw his hands up in exasperation as he walked away. All the while, mumbling about his brother being the 'hardest damn thing to shop for'.

Rory laughed when he walked away and grabbed the gloves off of the stand, "Thanks, I really needed these."

"I didn't stand up to the man just to give the gloves away to someone I barely know." Peter smirked and snatched the gloves out of her hands, "listen, my friend graduated last year from med school and I didn't get to give him a present. This year I want to make up for it, I've known him for years and this will really make a great present."

Rory groaned, "Come on, just let me have the gloves so my shopping will be done for the day and I can go home. Please?"

"Are you serious? No. I grabbed them first, didn't I? Just let me have them for my friend." He almost down right pleaded with her.

She sighed, "Fine."

Peter looked at her for a moment, she looked tired and her eyes had lost their playful glint that was expressed early. She really wanted the gloves and he could always find another present. With a sigh he looked at the gloves, "Here." He handed the gloves to her and she smiled brightly before practically skipping off to the counter.

* * *

Peter walked towards the exit of the mall with Rory walking beside him her hands full with multiple bags, "Guess I'll have to come back tomorrow to get a present for my friend, huh?"

Rory smiled at him, slightly, "Yeah, I guess so."

"Not even an apology for worming your way into my conscience and making me give you the gloves?" He chuckled as she shrugged and walked out onto the busy streets of New York.

"Nice … meeting you," she smiled and shifted the bag on her arm.

"You too," he nodded to her and she walked away from him. He watched her walk out a little ways before he found his voice and stopped her, "Hey!"

Startled, she turned and looked at him, "Yeah?" Rory started walking back to him.

"Would you like to … go get coffee or something?" He tried looking anywhere but into her ocean-like eyes.

"I'm sorry; I'm seeing someone," she gestured to the Bloomingdales bag, "the present … for him."

"Oh," disappointment flashed in his eyes and he cursed himself for letting her have the gloves to give to him. He gave her a nod and turned from her, walking away.

Her stomach turned and she hesitated before calling to him, "Wait!"

He stopped in his spot and turned on his heel to look at her, not saying a word.

"Maybe coffee wouldn't be so bad."

Peter smiled to her; a warm smile, "There's a diner about a block down this way." He nodded his head to the right.

Rory walked over to him and he grabbed a bag or two from her. They walked down the streets of New York in a comfortable silence.

Once they arrived to the diner he opened the door for her and she walked in, struggling slightly with the bags. He held the door open with his foot while he made his way in and she sat at a small table by a big window.

Rory dropped the bags beside her stool and lifted herself up. Peter sat in front of her and a woman came over to take their order. She looked around seventeen.

She put on a fake smile, "Hi, I'm Melina, welcome to Jackie's Diner. May I take your order for the evening?"

"For me, just black coffee," Peter smiled at her and she turned to Rory.

"One piece of blueberry pie and one coffee; black."

The woman walked away and Peter looked at Rory, "So are you from around here?"

"No, I grew up in a small town in Connecticut," she replied, "and you?"

"Grew up in Manhattan," he grinned and looked out the window, the comfortableness now replaced with loss of words and sweaty palms. She smiled a tiny bit as she noticed that he wasn't like most New Yorkers. His personality was warm and friendly. Even his eyes showed comforting warmth.

She looked out the window. The girl came up to them and set down two coffees and a piece of pie in front of Rory. The thought of getting each other's names never crossed either of their minds. They were just glad to have some company of the evening.

"What do you do?" She asked him once she had at least a quarter of her pie finished.

"Oh, I go to med school," he took a sip of his coffee and leaned back, "you?"

"I write for a small paper here in New York." Rory fidgeted in her seat and slowly put a piece of pie in her mouth.

"Really? Where did you go to school?" He asked her, leaning up just a tiny bit.

"I graduated from Yale four years ago." She replied and looked up at him from her pie. They held eye contact

He looked back down to break the eye contact first. "Yale. Impressive," he took a sip of the coffee in front of him.

"When you do you graduate?"

"Oh … May," He replies and glances up at her again, taking in her appearance. Her hair; long locks of brown that cascaded over her shoulders, her bangs were pulled back and clipped at the top of her head. Her eyes were, like he had noticed earlier, ocean-like. They were big and blue, but not just one color of blue. Right then her cheeks and nose were red because of the weather outside.

Rory glanced up from her coffee and saw him looking at her. She turned her head away, blushing furiously. He smirked and looked back out the window.

* * *

It had been an hour and a half since they arrived in the diner. They talked about the movies these days, the way celebrities set bad examples, anything that you could possibly think of to talk about.

"I never make time to actually sit down and read. But, I can't lie; I love the Harry Potter series."

Rory laughed and shook her head, "You really don't strike me as the type to read Harry Potter."

He shrugged and played with the empty coffee mug in his hands. Her laughing died down and she just smiled at him, "We better get going. Ryan's going to call and wonder where I am."

"Ah, the boyfriend," he noted. The smile that was on Peter's face toned down at the mention of her boyfriend. He was actually starting to enjoy her presence and didn't want it to end here.

"Yeah," she grabbed the bags off of the floor and he did the same.

"Come on, I'll hail you a cab," He left a tip on the table and walked out with her.

The cold air greeted them when Peter opened the door. Rory pulled her coat closer around her and pulled on her white gloves that were stowed away in her pockets. She struggled out of the diner, tripping a little on the bags she was carrying. He smirked and took another from her and she just gave him a grateful smile.

She walked to the corner of the sidewalk and he hailed her a cab. When the taxi stopped, Rory turned to him and brushed the hair out of her eyes, "Thank you, for the company today. It made my day better," she smiled.

"You're welcome. Maybe we'll see each other again," he gave her a small smile.

She giggled, being the less optimistic one, "I doubt it. It's a big city."

"That was a negative response," he chuckled.

She smiled and bit her lip, "I need to go." She glanced at him one more time before getting into the cab and shutting the door. The man drove off and Peter watched as the yellow car made its way down the cold dark street.

Rory sat in the taxi and leaned back. Biting the inside of her cheek, she sat up, "Sir, could you please stop?"

"Stop?"

"Yeah, I just … realized I don't want to go home right now." He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips and parked on the side of the road. "Thank you," she smiled and got out of the taxi, carrying her bags with her. She stepped on the sidewalk and looked for the man she spent the day with.

When she finally spotted him, she hurried to him, "Hey!"

Peter stopped walking and turned around to see her hurrying towards him. He smiled, "Hey,"

She stopped when she got in front of him, "Would you like to take a walk with me?"

"Sure," he grinned. "You know this is the second time you tried to leave and ended up coming back?"

"Well, I just don't want this night to end," she said, giggling.

* * *

They walked down the streets of New York, Rory shuffling the snow and Peter glancing at her, "Where exactly did you want to go?" He asked her.

"I just didn't want to go home," she admitted.

"Ah … I see," he walked past a hot chocolate stand and Rory stopped him.

"Oh yum! Let's get some!" She squealed like a little kid.

"We just had coffee and you had a piece of pie," he noted, chuckling.

"Yes, but you see, we Lorelais can intake large portions of sweets at any time." She smiled and walked to the stand.

After she had purchased the hot chocolate she turned to Peter, who was smirking.

"What?" She asked, stirring her hot drink.

Peter continued walking down the sidewalk, "So your name is Lorelai?"

"It's not what I go by," she smiled, "nice try, though."

"Well it was worth a shot," he smirked. She smiled and bit her lip, looking down at her damp shoes. They walked a few more minutes in silence before he looked at his watch and then at her, "Should you be getting home?"

"Nah," she answered, and then paused, "Maybe … probably … yes."

"Come on, let's get you into that cab for the second time tonight," he smiled and walked her down the street. He stood on the curb and Rory opened her purse. She placed the paper on the side of the building next to them and scribbled something on it.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"Giving you my number. We should keep in touch," she said.

She turned to Peter and handed him the paper with her number written on it. He held it loosely in his hands, trying to read what it was. He smiled before the wind picked up speed and blew it out of his hand. He watched it float away and sighed before looking at her.

"Maybe it wasn't meant to be," she stated, smiling softly.

"You didn't strike me as the type that believes in fate," he raised an eyebrow.

"You didn't strike me as the type to read Harry P-,"

He cut her off, "Don't finish that sentence." She giggled at his playful threat.

"By the way, my name's Rory," she smiled, stepping into the cab.

"Rory," he repeated, watching her every move.

She smiled and placed her lips on his for just a fraction of a second before pulling away and sitting on the cold seat, "Night."

"Night Rory," Peter said and closed her door.

The taxi drove off with her inside for the second time tonight and he waited, hoping he'd see the glow of a break light. When the yellow car was out of sight Peter turned on his heel and walked down the street.

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_Review?_


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